


Hungry Like The Wolf

by stormbourne



Series: monsterfucking on main [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rimming, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 11:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15411573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormbourne/pseuds/stormbourne
Summary: Three weeks into his new life as a werewolf, Dirk Strider has discovered a lot of perks. Unfortunately, he's about to discover one of the drawbacks.





	Hungry Like The Wolf

Dirk was finding, now that his boyfriend had bitten him and thereby inducted him into the wild world of lycanthropy, that there were a lot of perks to being a werewolf.

He slept better, usually. Deeper and longer, not having to struggle to get to bed anymore. If he was too wound up, all he had to do was shift and go for a run, maybe even hunt a rabbit or two. He had more energy, even if he also had a bigger appetite to go with it. His hearing and smell were better, even if he suspected he might be going mildly colorblind. Food just tasted better. Three weeks of newfound wolfdom had confirmed all of that was going to be the new norm, not just a hiccup.

And.

Well.

The sex had always been nice, where Jake was involved. But as the days went by he found that sharing Jake's status as a member of the strange and supernatural had made Jake bolder and more willing to try some shit that was, frankly, off the fucking chain. Dirk didn't know if it was just that sharing his secret -- and getting Dirk in on it -- had made him more willing to be outright, or if there was some weird werewolf shit in play. It wasn't like he was especially versed in the supernatural, which he'd always been fairly sure was a heaping pile of complete bullshit. 

There were downsides, of course. He found himself more distractible. His own strength had caught him off guard more than once. Sometimes, strange new instincts would tug at the back of his mind, to chase something or just run as far and long as he could. Jake had assured him that, once he'd been a lycanthrope for longer, his system would adjust, but that it would probably take a few months.

Today, though, was an entirely new kind of downside.

He'd woken up late, feeling like his head had been stuffed with cotton. Jake had assured him, several times, that werewolves had a stronger immune system than most humans, but that didn't stop him from feeling sick as -- well, sick as a dog. He'd had passing fevers since the bite, but they always faded quickly. He had hoped this one would be the same, but nursing a headache and a coffee over the course of several hours had done nothing for it. He'd called in sick to work. He'd eaten tame food. He'd tried to keep himself hydrated. And still, nothing seemed to help the fuzziness in his brain. It was like everything had been wrapped in a fluffy layer of cloth -- hot, stifling cloth that chafed when he tried to think through it. 

There was really only one solution for when he felt this shitty, and that solution was a long time spent marinating in the shower, taking his time to pamper himself. It was a small relief that at least he didn't smell like wet dog when he bathed. That might have been a dealbreaker. 

There were great perks to living with Jake, even outside of the lycanthropy-induced ones. For one, he had a really, really nice shower, with a damn persistent water heater that seemed to never give out. Dirk was working on teaching him how to use soap that wasn't just a fucking all-in-one, but sometimes you had to be willing to accept baby steps. His own suite of products was much more significant: body wash, shampoo, conditioner, moisturizer, the fucking works.

He turned the water temperature up until it was almost scalding, climbing into the shower and letting himself just steam for a few minutes. The hot water relaxed him, unknotted his muscles, but did next to nothing for his pounding headache -- and, strangely, did nothing for his fuzzy thoughts. 

So, fine, then. He'd take his time. 

Usually the process of cleaning himself up helped clear his head. Maybe it was a sign of how tired and sick he was that it didn't today. If anything, he felt ... foggier. Dreamier. He lingered a bit long on his hair, lathering, then lathering again. Distant and strange as he felt at the moment, it was easy to imagine his own fingers were Jake's, pressing into his temples, scraping nails across his scalp. He massaged his fingers in small circles, slipping down into the curled hair over his ears, back around over his earlobe, into the sensitive baby hair at the nape of his neck. 

He became aware, a moment later, that he was hard. 

It felt impossible. He hadn't even been doing anything. He'd been washing his fucking hair. And yet, here he was, practically ready to hammer nails with his own fucking dick. When had that happened? 

As he tried to take stock of what was going on, he realized all the shampoo had long since rinsed out of his hair. The shower floor was clear of suds. How long had he been in here? He blinked, but there was no real way to tell how much time had passed. Just warmth and safety and the hot water cascading down his back, loosening his muscles.

A whimper slid out of his throat without him even thinking about it. That was another of the downsides of being a newly turned wolf. Usually, at least, he could manage to keep his damn vocalizations under control, but today was turning out all kinds of strange.

His fingers strayed away from his regular conditioner, fumbling over the bottles until his hand closed, instead, on Jake's reprehensible all-in-one. Green apple scented. He poured it into his hand, and then started lathering it into his hair. It was going to fuck up his scalp, he was pretty sure. No sane human being used all-in-ones. The smell of candy-sour green apple flooded the shower -- he'd definitely used too much shampoo -- and he whimpered again, losing himself for another several minutes in massaging his own scalp.

This time, his soapy hands trailed lower, over his chest. Over his nipples, taking a moment to pinch. Over his abs, over his adonis belt, and -- 

Ah. Yes. 

Here, too, he took his time. He didn't usually rush to begin with, but today he felt like being especially indulgent. He stroked himself smooth and slow and even, letting himself feel every flex of his muscles, every touch of his fingers, the slickness of the cloying green apple shampoo, the smell surrounding him. It was practically like Jake was there with him, in the shower. He could, if he closed his eyes, pretend it was Jake's hand stroking him. Except -- no, he couldn't. Jake's fingers were thicker, more callused. His own fingers were too long, too thin, too bony. The illusion broke like a wave on the shore. He opened his eyes and stared down at himself, stroking faster and harder, twisting, adding a rough edge. He heard his own breaths quicken, distantly, as though he was somewhere across the room watching himself. Each breath was ragged, halfway a whimper on the exhale. He sounded pathetic.

He also sounded, frankly, fuckable as hell.

Maybe he'd go out and wait for Jake to get home, when he was done in here. Maybe he wouldn't even bother to dry himself off. He knew Jake liked it when his hair was soft, silky, and unstyled. He hated it; it made his face look young and round instead of sharp and intelligent. But Jake loved it, loved running his hands through it, loved burying his nose in it as they fucked. He could just go out, lay there with his legs spread, and maybe Jake would come back in and just --

The image was what made him come. He tried to let his head empty out into blissful white static, but instead he was met with a sense of ... wrongness. Emptiness. A knowledge that it wasn't enough. His thoughts now, instead of fuzzy, felt too sharp. He could cut himself on them if he wasn't careful. He whined aloud, turning to slam his free hand against the wall of the shower. 

He needed Jake. 

He came back to himself sharply what must have been at least a few minutes later. The water running over his shoulders and down his back was clear; there were no more suds on the floor. The water, at least, was still hot, but Dirk was tugged between his thoughts fading back into fuzziness and the distinct knowledge that, whatever this fucking -- illness -- was, it sure had never fucking happened before he'd been made into a werewolf. 

He managed, with shaking fingers, to shut off the water. He tugged a towel from the rack, wrapping it around himself, and stepped out of the bathroom.

That might have been a mistake.

Sure, his sense of smell had been heightened since he'd been turned, but never like this. Everything seemed to radiate Jake's scent, which up until now he'd only barely noticed. But it was everywhere. On the bed. In spots -- fingerprints, Dirk guessed -- on the dresser and nightstand. It rose like steam from the laundry hamper. There were bits of it wafting from the carpet, the pillow -- everywhere.

He clapped a hand to his nose and mouth, but the weird illness had already started to work its magic all over again. He was dizzy, and more than that, he was hot. It felt like fire was kindling somewhere inside his bones, searing through every nerve, straight down to his dick. Which was already hardening again, and jesus christ, how was this happening? 

Jake never kept a consistent schedule. They'd argued about it more than once, both before and after he'd told Dirk where he went during full moons. It ran a lot deeper than him just keeping semi-nocturnal hours -- he was almost always running late, and tended to indulge any whims that crossed his mind between points A and B. Today, he was supposed to be out dealing with his pack -- most likely making arrangements for Dirk to be inducted, though Dirk hadn't wanted to be nosy. But that didn't mean Jake would be back anytime soon. He might decide to stop by the store and get some ice cream, or to see a movie since he was out in town anyway, and the thought of just sitting by and dealing with this while Dirk waited like a loyal fuckin' dog for him to return ... Hell no.

He grabbed a scarf from one of his drawers, wrapping it around his face. Jake didn't go through his things much, so it thankfully smelled minimally like him -- a thankful shield against the rest of the apartment, which was positively heady. Dirk managed to fish his phone out of the nightstand drawer, and then immediately sealed himself back in the bathroom. Green apple candy scent or not, it was at least slightly less dizzying than Jake's scent plastered all over anything. 

TT: Alright look.   
TT: I know you're busy with your family and shit but this is important.   
GT: Oh hiya dirk! Whats up!   
GT: I was just finishing up actually do you want me to pick up anything on the way back?   
TT: No.   
TT: Explicitly, please, do fuckin' not do that. I need you back here.

He cursed at his own language. The word "need" made him think of Jake wrapping strong hands around him. Hands that turned to claws. Holding him tight, spreading his legs, and -- 

Focus. Focus.

TT: Something weird is happening.    
TT: I have no idea what, but I have a feeling it has to do with my new ... condition.   
TT: So get the hell back here so you can take a look and tell me what the shit is wrong with me.   
GT: Wrong with you?   
GT: Oh no dirk are you sick?   
TT: Jake, I just told you that this probably has to do with the, you know, changes I've been going through.   
TT: How would I fucking know if it's actual sickness or not.   
GT: Hm well its just odd is all. It should be really hard for you to get sick!    
TT: Yes, I know. You told me that, remember?   
TT: But the fact remains.   
TT: I feel funky.   
GT: Hmmmmmmm.   
GT: It just shouldnt be possible thats all. Its not that i dont believe you dirk its just that its incredibly unlikely that youre actually    
GT: Unless    
GT: Oh criminy!   
GT: I cant believe its that time already it seems way too early!   
TT: Respectfully, dude, what in the sweet shit are you talking about.   
GT: Ill explain in a blink dirk you just sit tight and ill be home as soon as i can!   
GT: Let me just tell gran whats happening shell be so excited.   
TT: Jake.   
TT: Jake, come on.   
TT: Jake?   
TT: Hell.

He waited another long minute with no reply from Jake. Whatever Jake was talking to his grandmother about, it was taking time that Dirk could not be sure he had. What if this shit was fatal? What if he was dying? Logically, if that was what Jake thought was happening, he would neither be excited nor take time to tell his grandmother about it, but all logic tended to fly out the window when Dirk got into a panic tailspin. 

He pressed the scarf against his face and breathed through it, trying to keep his mind clear even as his thoughts fuzzed back over and his dick reminded him of its desire for attention. 

Okay, he thought. Fine. He didn't know how long Jake was going to take, and he was pretty sure jacking off again was not going to kill him. He lowered the scarf and took a deep breath of apple-scented air, his back to the bathroom cabinets and ass firmly on the floor. He bent his legs, curling in on himself and beginning to stroke himself, letting his mind wander.

What would Jake do with him when he was back? Would Jake fuck him? Would Jake pound him into the mattress, or take it slow and gentle? Maybe Jake would bite him. Maybe Jake's teeth would turn sharp and draw blood. Maybe he'd leave his mark and his scent all over Dirk, making sure no one else would touch him. Making sure that everyone knew whose property he was.

He realized that he was whimpering again. Desperate, high-pitched mewls. He also realized, looking down at his hands, that he'd started shifting without even realizing. He'd only shifted a few times before now; the process was still painful and new, and he wasn't sure how he was going to handle it when full moon came around. But this time, he hadn't noticed the shift at all. His hand was halfway to a paw, fingers pulling back to form near-paws with claws instead of fingernails and ginger-blond fur starting to sprout around his wrist. As if ashamed by him catching it happening, the shift reversed himself, and this time he did wince as his bones popped back into place. Now it _did_ hurt -- though still not as much as it had last time he'd tried shifting. 

God, his dick ached with the need to come. He felt like he'd never been so hard. Despite that, though, he was almost certain that when he did come, it would feel as empty and dissatisfying as it had last time. Whatever this weird sickness was, it was a cruel motherfucker to deprive him of even the pleasure of jacking off. 

He kept going anyway. This time, though, he strained to keep his eyes open and on his hands.

He didn't shift again -- at first. But as he kept working, as his thoughts started wandering into the realm of fantasy again, he could feel something moving in his mouth. When he ran his tongue over his teeth, there were more that were pointed than just his canines -- and there were too many. His tongue, too, seemed strangely shaped -- too long, and too smooth. He was whimpering again. He could feel his tongue lolling out as he panted. 

If he could just -- 

He let his eyes close and focused on the images running through his brain like a herd of deer. Jake closing hands around him, spreading him open and fucking him deep and hard. His nails turning into claws, digging into Dirk's skin. His teeth, sharp and pointed, digging into the back of Dirk's neck, which, of course, Dirk would bare to show deference. Dirk rolling over to show the light, soft fur of his belly. Jake, bigger and black-furred, teeth bared over him, accepting the display. Jake mounting him.

He only became aware that he had been fantasizing about Jake fucking him in shifted form after he had already come. This time had been slightly less unsatisfying than the last, but only slightly. He still felt empty and bereft, and the green apple scent made him whine. He wished he was smelling it in Jake's hair. He wished Jake was fucking him into the floor amidst that scent, or in the shower, or.

He managed to cut off that line of thought as his dick twitched almost painfully. Too soon. Werewolf stamina might be legendary, but he was still only fucking mortal. He made half an effort to clean up -- not difficult, since he was still naked -- and then climbed up to look at himself in the mirror.

He was definitely halfway to a wolfman out of some 80s cult movie. His loose, curly hair had started to become distinctly shaggy, giving him some near-Wolverine level sideburns. His jaw was strangely shaped, ears higher up the sides of his head than they should have been. And his eyes were way closer to yellow than to his normal amber. He had never been able to grow much facial hair, but now he had a very distinct five o'clock shadow. 

As he watched, his features slowly reverted. His ears slid slowly back down his head, rounding themselves out. The sideburns retreated into the loose, curly hair that normally lay over his ears. His teeth dulled. 

But his eyes -- those stayed intently yellow.

Maybe this was something all new werewolves experienced. Jake had reacted like it was a normal -- even anticipated -- event. Maybe this what made it so new lycanthropes didn't feel as much pain when they changed. But if that was it, why wouldn't Jake have warned Dirk about it happening? 

Well, Jake could be forgetful even at the best of times. Dirk watched his stubble vanish back into his chin and bared his teeth, satisfied to find that he once again had the correct number. When he was sure that his jaw was back to normal, he wrapped the scarf around his face again, took a deep breath, and walked back out into the apartment. 

The scarf could only do so much. As Dirk hurried through the bedroom, he considered flinging himself back into the bathroom and just waiting there for Jake to get back. Maybe standing in the shower and running the hot water to keep himself free of any of Jake's scent and keep his mind off what was going on. But given how his shower had previously gone, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep his hands off himself. Or, with the way his fantasies had been pushing, out of himself. 

He tightened the scarf around his nose, which he swore he could feel attempting to lengthen into a snout. It was fucking absurd that he had this little control over his shifting. Sure, he might have still been a new were, but this was obscene. It had to be some kind of bizarre werewolf version of a cold. The sneezing shifts or something. No, that sounded stupid. 

The rest of the apartment was less heady with Jake's scent than the bedroom had been, though he discovered a new and worrying scent once he sat down on the couch. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed it, with his new superpowered wolf nose. But it was the first time it had seemed so intense, and he couldn't just brush it off. Instead, the smell of past sex -- right here, where he was sitting -- wafted through the thin cloth of the scarf until he wrapped it a second time around his face. And that only served to stifle it a little.

When was the last time they had sex on this couch? Surely not that long ago. A good third of their movie nights tended to turn into groping and frotting, or into something more intense. The most recent he could remember -- last week, when he'd complained about the Star Wars prequels until Jake had kissed him to shut him up, and they'd gotten carried away. Yeah, that was it. His mind filled out the details as clean and clear as a high-definition photo. Jake had fumbled his own shorts open, then Dirk's jeans, slid his hands around them both, and ...

His hand was already around his dick. He should have at least grabbed a bathrobe. A shirt. A fucking towel to drape around his hips, so he wouldn't be sitting here in his goddamn birthday suit. Too late now, though. He pried his hand off his dick, fishing around until he found one of the blankets Jake insisted on keeping nearby, draping it over himself instead.

That was also a mistake. Jake loved to curl up in blankets when he was watching his flicks, and so the blanket reeked of him strongly enough that the scarf didn't do anything against it. When Dirk reached up to try to press it tighter against his nose, his hand was shaking and half-shifted to a paw again, which meant that his attempt to clutch the scarf against his nose instead ended with him accidentally tugging it loose.

Smells rushed in. By far, Jake's was the most powerful. His jaw dropped open, which served to flood his mouth with the scent. His tongue lolled out again, too long. The bones in his jaw cracked and popped. His bottom teeth pressed against the underside of his tongue, sharp. This time, every slight shift of his body, every change that tugged him more toward wolf than man, felt like it rippled through his nerves. The scarf fell as his nose lengthened and flattened. He was whimpering again.

It was almost impossible to jack himself off with a hand that was more paw than fingers and thumbs. The hand around his dick was still closer to human, and he focused all his will on keeping it that way as he felt his toes pull back, ankles turning to knees, itchiness sprouting as extra hair sprouted from the back of his neck and his shoulders. 

His paw-hand fumbled up, pressed the blanket against his lengthening snout, and he whimpered louder than he had yet today. 

Despite his best efforts, the hand he'd wrapped around his dick started to shift, as well. His fingers shortened, rounding at the knuckles, as the tips turned to claws. Itchy ginger fur started sprouting between his fingers as his thumbs pulled back to start changing into dewclaws. "No," he whined aloud, struggling to keep up friction on his dick, or at least trying to twist to lick at himself like a disobedient dog. But he wasn't changed enough to manage that yet, his ribcage still too wide and long to let him twist how he needed to. He growled, now, and rolled over. 

His dick hit one of the throw pillows and, relieved, he started thrusting. It was no Jake, but it was going to have to do, and everything marked with Jake's smell around him helped. He let his mouth hang open as he humped desperately against the pillow, the change still slowly rolling over him.

The door clicked open.

It took him a long minute to comprehend what that meant -- a long minute in which, of course, he kept rolling his hips against the pillow. His ears, somewhere between wolf and human, pricked toward the source of the sound, and he looked up, panting hard.

"Oh hells bells!" Jake's voice said, and a waft of fresh, pleasant Jake-scent washed over Dirk. He let out a pleased whimper this time, the change starting to come faster as he kept rocking forward, savoring the pressure on his dick. "Dirk, stop that, you're going to be absolutely friggin' livid when you get your right mind back! Quit it!"

Well, Jake wanted him to stop, though he couldn't fathom why. He did as he was asked, but then immediately shifted his weight from one side to the other, whining, begging for Jake to please just let him go back to getting off. 

Jake lowered himself next to the side of the couch, hands spread. "Yeah, compadre, don't I know it! You've got to be just losing every last one of your marbles, right about now. Sorry it took me so long to get home. Can you shift back for me?"

He wasn't sure he could. It felt right to be like this, even if Jake wasn't going to let him get off. He whined, but Jake was looking him right in the eyes and he felt like he needed to at least make an effort. His scrabbling paws lengthened, claws dulling. His snout shortened. His ears slid back to where they belonged; his legs straightened back out into a human shape. Despite that, he could tell he wasn't all the way back to human, definitely further down the trail than he had been when he'd checked himself in the mirror. 

"What's happening?" he managed, barely finding human words and wrangling them from his throat. His voice was rough, like he'd been smoking. "I don't -- I don't understand. What's happening to me? Am I sick?"

Now Jake averted his gaze, coughing and letting out a slight laugh. "Well," he said. "In a manner of speaking, sure! I guess you could put it that way. Keep concentrating, come on. You're halfway back to being the Dirk I know and love and not some kind of Hollywood wolfman! You can do it." 

Dirk let out another whine, but tried to focus on his human shape. "I," he said, his voice slowly evening out and getting less rough, "feel like I've been hard for my entire fuckin' life. I keep jacking off and it's never satisfying. I just start again ten minutes later. It's never enough." He thought talking was helping, rooting him in the distinctly human realm of communicating via words, instead of howls and growls and whines. So, he kept talking. "I didn't exactly want to go into detail in text, like, hey, buddy, my dick is so hard right now, what you wearing? I'd rather not be that kind of creep." His skin itched as fur retreated back into it. He hadn't realized that his fucking dick had started to change, but now he did, and to keep from starting to hump the pillow again, he rolled back over. One of his hands fished the scarf back off the floor, bringing it up to press against his nose again. His tailbone shrank back into his ass. 

"There we go," Jake said. Dirk opened his eyes and looked up at him. His joints ached from so many half-shifts in such a short time. "That's my Strider. Budge on up, let's get you to the bedroom."

He thought about the fumes of Jake-scent rising from the laundry hamper and shook his head. "No," he said. "Tell me what's going on, first. If I go back in there I'm just going to start humping everything in sight all over again. I have had ten times too much of that for the past three hours." He sat up, scooting back to sit against the edge of the couch. With a sigh, Jake circled around him and sat on the other side of the couch. Dirk pressed his scarf tight against his nose and waited for Jake to explain. He might not have had a tail at the moment, but he sure felt like he had one that was flicking back and forth in agitation. 

"Well," Jake said. He drew the word out like he was tasting it. "How much do you know about wolves, there, Dirk? Specifically, I suppose, how much do you know about, um." He flashed his gap-toothed smile at Dirk. "Reproduction?" 

Dirk nearly dropped the scarf on instinct, but caught himself at the last minute. "If you are about to tell me that this is a reproductive thing, I'm going to have to remind you I'm pretty sure that isn't possible between the two of us," he said. His words were muffled.

"Well, it's not going to lead to anything, no," Jake said, hurriedly. "But it's just how werewolves are, when we -- erm, when we ... pair-bond." He trailed that word off, more like a question than a statement.

"When you mate," Dirk said, using the word that he knew Jake had originally meant. 

"Erm." Jake raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "Well, yepperoni, that sure is what I mean. It's just -- how we are! No matter what gender the wolves are. Every couple of months, one of the mates will have this happen and there's not a whole lot you can do except wait it out!" 

"I really," Dirk said, trying not to think about what this meant for the next week or maybe even longer, "wish you had told me about this sooner."

"I didn't exactly think it was going to happen three weeks in!" Jake blustered. "Most mates don't have this happen for a year! Hell, Dirk, most mates take that long to even pair-bond! I guess we jumped a bit past that since we've been going out for so long, but I didn't think it was going to come up!" 

That was, Dirk supposed, fair. "So," he said, broaching the subject that he had been avoiding, "what exactly am I supposed to do until this passes?" 

"Now, Dirk," Jake said. He was smiling a bit too wide. He let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh. "There's one thing that I know both of us probably want right now, especially you. And it's not exactly going to make anything go all pear-shaped, so to speak!"

It took active concentration not to let his mind wander down the exact paths that he knew Jake was referencing, especially after he'd just spent the last few hours frantically pushing himself to orgasm after orgasm. He closed his eyes, pressed the scarf tighter against his face, and tried to breathe evenly. 

"I don't think 'fuck all my problems away' is really something that we can just apply to every situation," he said.

"You say that every friggin' time," Jake sighed. An instant later, a hand patted Dirk's thigh. He was mortified to feel his dick twitch in eager response. "We don't have to canoodle our way out of _everything,_ " Jake said, wheedling. "But I mean, what else are we supposed to do with this here bucket of worms, chap? And I've got it on good authority that giving that filthy beast two backs instead of one makes it a lot less frustrating!" 

There were a lot of questions he needed to ask. How long was this going to last? How often was this going to fucking happen? Was he just supposed to put his life on hold once every few months while he, apparently, sank into a breeding fury? At least there wasn't going to be any actual breeding involved. He could take that small favor.

He pressed his other hand over his eyes. "Sure," he said. What other option did he have, really? "But you're going to have a lot of explaining to do, once I'm not fucking preoccupied with the concept of you and me dicking down, and I do mean _all_ the way down." 

"Oh, don't you worry a bit," Jake said. There was an undercurrent of heat in his voice, and this time Dirk didn't bother trying to suppress the pulse of arousal that slid down to his dick. After all, he'd not only been given permission, he'd been given a written fucking invitation. Dirk Strider, your presence is requested in the bone zone, where we'd like to present you with the award of some completely fucking wild sex, possibly straying into the realm of the supernatural. RSVP at your earliest convenience. "I'll explain everything," his boyfriend continued, "and I'm sure when it's my turn to go through this whole rigamarole that you'll repay the favor." 

Well, he wanted Jake to clarify _that._ But as he pulled his hands away from his face, Jake's other hand reached up to tug the scarf down. A heady rush of Jake-smell rushed into his nose and mouth, combined with the still-present, but subtler smell of past sex. Then Jake's hand on his thigh slid up to wrap thick, callused fingers around his dick, and Dirk's entire body arched upward.

"You ready to go on into the bedroom now?"

It was really, really not fair that Jake sounded that smug. "What was that you were just saying about repaying a favor?" Dirk asked, trying as hard as he could not to sound hoarse and desperate. Not that there was much point in it. He was already hard as rock in Jake's hand. That game had long since been given away. "I'll repay the favor by being a complete asshole, whenever the tables get turned. Whatever the sweet fuck that mea -- ah!" Jake had interrupted him with a quick stroke and squeeze, and his whole body had spasmed. He was pretty sure he'd felt his toes slide all the way into paws in one fell swoop. 

"Really, Strider!" Jake scolded. "This would be much easier if you weren't such a fussbudget about everything. Stop trying to be the big six! I'm trying to help you." The hand that had tugged the scarf down moved away, and he felt the couch shift as Jake adjusted his weight and slapped one of his feet. "And get this under control! There'll be mounds of time for that later." 

His toes popped, one by one, back into place. He tried not to cringe at the cracking noise. At least, this time, it didn't hurt. "Okay," he said, "I'm not sure what exactly you mean with that last bit, but I think I've got it handled for now. Help me up. I don't know if I can walk." 

He could, in fact, walk, but that didn't keep Jake from draping one of Dirk's arms over his shoulders and more hauling than supporting him. Dirk didn't protest. He did, in fact, instead turn and press his face against Jake's neck, breathing deep. There was the green apple shampoo, Jake's dollar-store aftershave, and the smell of sweat. He could smell the burger Jake had eaten for lunch, the eggs and bacon he'd had for breakfast. He whined against Jake's shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, amigo, don't I know it," Jake muttered, turning to press a kiss against Dirk's hairline. "Your ears are going."

"Sorry," Dirk replied, more of a mutter than much else. He focused, felt them change shape. "I'm trying. It's hard to keep my head on right, at the moment. Some of the shit I've been imagining ..." 

"I had a talk with my gran about it, before I left," Jake said. He leaned down to scoop Dirk's legs up in one arm. Dirk let out a grunt of protest, but then just buried his face against Jake again. "She said it's harder for new turns to maintain shape during their first heat. Hopefully it gets easier once you've got the shifts under control a bit more. But who knows! She said it's not that unlikely that next time it'll be me who goes a bit feral, either. I guess we'll have to see."

"Next time," Dirk slurred.

"Yes, next time, you doofus, it's not like it's one-and-done! It keeps happening every once in a while for just as long as we're mated. That's how things are!" The bedroom door swung open, and then back closed behind them. It was still as heady with Jake's scent as it had been earlier. "It could be me next, or it could be you again, or maybe both of us at once. Who can say!" 

He couldn't quite wrap his head around that right now, so, instead, he tried, "I really wish you wouldn't talk to your fucking grandmother about our sex life."

"It wasn't a sex thing! It was a wolf thing! She's the matron of the pack, what was I supposed to do?" 

Jake slid Dirk down onto the bed, where he had to keep himself from rolling over and grinding mercilessly against the sheets. Luckily, he didn't have to control himself for long. Jake climbed over him and leaned down to kiss him, then follow the line of his neck.

"What you were supposed to do," he managed, as Jake's lips found his adam's apple, then his collarbone, then the joint of his neck and his shoulder, "was not talk to your fuckin' grandmother about our fuckin' sex life." 

"I needed advice," Jake said. His hand slid down to grip Dirk's dick again, squeezing and stroking and pressing the tips of his fingers against the head. Dirk hissed in a tight breath. He could tell his teeth were too pointed again. He tried to focus them back into flatness. "And who better to ask for advice? She's seen it all, you know! There's a reason she's the boss!" 

"Okay," Dirk said, "I get maybe I'm wrong here but at this point I just --" he gasped in a breath as Jake's fingers slid back to toy with his balls, "-- just really don't want to be talking about your grandmother while we're fucking anymore, so I guess you win, is that cool?"

Jake's head popped back into Dirk's line of vision, and he grinned widely, displaying his gap tooth. Then he leaned down and planted a kiss on Dirk's nose. "You're rambling," he said. "It's quite charming!" Then his smile turned sharp, eyes glittering. He looked almost wolfish even though he hadn't shifted so much as a single canine. "But I think I'm going to get down to business now, since I made you suffer for so long without me." 

He vanished again, but it didn't exactly take long to surmise where he'd gone when he wrapped his lips around the side of Dirk's dick in a sloppy kiss before sheathing the whole damn thing in his mouth.

Immediately, Dirk's hands came down to grip tight in Jake's hair as his hips rolled up into that pleasant heat. He let his own mouth hang open, moaning aloud as Jake went to work. Jake wasn't especially deft with blowjobs, but Dirk felt like he had been hard for hours, dangled at the edge of climax without the knowledge that it would ever be satisfying again. As such, it was easy to lose himself in the wet, pleasant heat, the sensation of Jake's tongue against the vein on the underside, the way one of Jake's thumbs brushed behind his balls and then slid further back to toy with his ass. And if some of Dirk's moans turned more into howls, then so what? Jake didn't pull away to scold him for losing control of his shape, and as far as Dirk was concerned, that meant he was free to do whatever the sweet hell he liked.

He had, however, been desperate for so long that it didn't take him long at all to come. He tried to warn Jake, but before he could, Jake's thumb pressed against his entrance and his nerves there seemed to catch fire. As did his entire lower body. He howled again, fingers -- thank god they were still fingers -- twisting into Jake's hair. He tried to loosen his grip, to not choke his boyfriend with his orgasm, but it wouldn't have mattered. Jake didn't so much as flinch. 

He was relieved to find, this time, that the feeling of empty dissatisfaction didn't immediately settle into his bones like it had before. Instead, it felt -- normal. Satisfying, good, filling his head with that pleasant white static that let him stop fucking thinking for a few seconds. And even if, today, it was that it let him stop thinking of how badly he wanted to fuck Jake, that was still miles better than it had been before. He let his eyes close, let his fingers loosen. Distantly, he felt Jake pull off his dick. He whined, but he didn't need to wait for long. Lips pressed against his. He could taste some of himself, but Jake had swallowed almost all of it.

"Feel better?" Jake asked as he pulled away. Dirk let his eyes flicker open. Jake had a one-sided smile as he raised a hand to brush hair out of Dirk's face.

"Loads," he said. He took a moment to assess himself, but he was pretty sure that, for the moment, he was all human. At the back of his mind, though, that heat lingered -- reduced a bit, perhaps, but still simmering. "You know that's not even remotely going to be the end of it, right?" 

Jake had the audacity to laugh. "Now!" he said. "I thought you said you didn't want me to mention talking with Gran anymore while we were doing the horizontal tango!" 

Dirk groaned, reaching up to scrub one hand over his eyes. "I'm hoping that means the answer is 'yes, Dirk, of course this isn't the end of it and I'm more than ready to take you to bonertown as many times as necessary.' There, see? No need to mention your grandmother or the fact that you talked with her about, I reiterate, our fuckin' sex life." 

Jake let out a very offended sigh, climbing up to flop down next to Dirk. "I didn't exactly give her the dirty details!" he protested. "But who'd know all the ins and outs of this business better than she would? So, _without_ giving her any of the nitty gritty, I just asked her for some advice! You can stop being such a negative Nancy about the whole thing, and all." He reached over to swat Dirk's shoulder. Dirk was momentarily relieved when his dick, for once, didn't respond. That relief didn't last long, though -- when he rolled toward Jake, Jake's smell flooded into his nose and he grunted.

"Okay," he said, "for the books, I want it on the fuckin' record that I can't assert how right I am right now, as my mental judgment is just utterly god damn compromised. We're talking some red alert levels here, man. Systems are not fucking go."

"I love it when you get rambly," Jake sighed, and leaned in to kiss him. 

Dirk indulged him. Jake had always been a good kisser, but he was especially passionate today -- or maybe that was just this apparent heat, twisting Dirk's sense of desire until anything Jake did would check every single one of his personal boxes. Still, kissing was always a box that he liked having checked. He opened his mouth, let Jake explore, sucked on Jake's lips, moaned into Jake's mouth as the tide of desperation started to wash back up and over him. Jake hummed pleasantly in return, rolling until he was laying on top of Dirk. Their hips aligned, and though Dirk could tell that Jake was still mostly soft, that didn't matter much. His own dick was hardening at something approaching the speed of light. He rolled his hips up, then did it again and again, feeling Jake's dick harden against him. That on its own was god damned intoxicating. It was like a hit of one of the good drugs. He needed more, so he kept grinding upward.

Jake broke away, taking a deep breath. He only managed that much before Dirk pulled him back down into another kiss. Their teeth clacked together and Jake let out a grunt of surprise, but melted against him after a moment. It was warm and wet and passionate, and Dirk's hips found a desperate rhythm. Jake was hardening in his shorts. It wasn't nearly fast enough. He whined and tugged back just enough to dig one of his -- sharpening -- canines into Jake's lip.

"Yowch!" Jake yelped, and pulled away again. "Jesus crispers, Dirk, calm down! There's no need to be so quick about it!" 

Dirk hoped the look on his face communicated his frustration, but, just in case, he let out an exasperated sigh. "Jake," he said.

"Yeppers," Jake said, sitting up and wiping a hand across his lower lip. "Jeezy, you're lucky you didn't draw blood." 

"I'm apparently in heat," Dirk said, sitting up as Jake fussed. "You are telling me that I can be patient and take it slow when every nerve in my goddamn body is begging me to just get the hell off, as fast and furious as possible. Patience is really not going to be my fortitude, right this second. Do you get me?"

Jake glanced up at him, and then sighed, eyebrows drawing up. He smiled. "I'm just trying to get you to savor it," he wheedled. "You know how much I like to tease and draw things out a bit ..." 

"And normally," Dirk said, tightening his hands in the sheets so he wouldn't reach down and start jacking off, "I would be happy to indulge you. But guess what, dude. Today is not that day. The fuse is about to go the hell off, whether you're ready for it or not. It's fireworks time, is what I'm getting at." 

Jake didn't move.

"Why," Dirk whined, "are you still dressed?" He gave up, pulling one hand up and reaching down to start stroking himself. It was such a relief that he let his head fall back against the headboard. Jake still didn't fucking move. He could feel Jake's weight shifting, but not rising off the bed. "Your loss," Dirk panted, and rutted against his own fingers. 

"Maybe," Jake's voice said, low and smooth as honey, "I just want to watch you for a bit. You know I like to watch." But, despite that, Dirk felt Jake's hand slide around his own and start to guide his strokes. "Don't be in such a rush," his boyfriend murmured against his ear. "Before the end of the night, I'll give you exactly what it is you want." 

Dirk momentarily lost sight of what that was supposed to mean, because for this instant, he was pretty sure that what he wanted was Jake's warm hand around his own, guiding him through jacking himself off, exactly like this. Then he caught sight of it again. "You could just be fucking me right now," he said. "Why put it off?" 

"How am I supposed to keep up with you if I blow my whole load right off the bat, hm?" Jake resettled himself so he was pressed against Dirk's side, a hot presence pressed up against him, solid and warm and smelling like fucking heaven. Dirk panted as Jake slowed his strokes to a snail's pace. He whined, hips jerking. "I mean, Dirk, think about it. You're all riled up and I'm still just me! If I tried to fuck you through every bit of this, I'd be crying uncle half a day in. We've got to add some spice to the stew, here. Shake things up a bit!" Then he started moving faster. The pace change was unexpected, and Dirk shook as his body fought to keep up with what Jake was doing. And then, just as he thought he had things under control, Jake slowed back down again. 

"Please just get me off," Dirk begged.

"I know you've got your fires all stoked on up to eleven, there," Jake continued, as though he hadn't spoken, "but I was told by a reliable source who shall not be named that the best way to deal with this is to tire you out! Otherwise you'll just turn into a nervous, paranoid wreck. So I've got to make it take longer, Dirk, or you'll just be endlessly getting off and never getting any more tuckered out! And we can't have that, you up at all hours while I'm sawing logs." Dirk tilted his head to look at Jake, intending to ask him to hurry up. But Jake beat him to the punch, and Dirk howled aloud in his boyfriend's face. "After all," Jake continued, and when Dirk wrenched his eyes open, his boyfriend was grinning, "biting you was supposed to fix your insomnia, not make it worse!" 

"I'm dying," Dirk whined, curling toward Jake. He could feel fur sprouting down the back of his neck. "You are making it really damn hard," he said, "to keep my composure and not just like, Balto out."

"Balto was part dog," Jake said admonishingly. "Really, Dirk. You could at least have said Jacob, or something."

"How," Dirk whined, as Jake's hand twisted around his dick, "can you be a werewolf who likes the fucking Twilight movies so much?" 

"They're great movies!"

"They're shit movies, and even shittier books. Ah, fuck, keep doing that."

Jake obliged. "One of these days I'll get you to see them for what they're worth," he said. "Maybe after you're done with this heat nonsense we can have a movie night!" 

"I'm never having," Dirk said, and heaved in a breath. He was fucking into his own hand, still circled by Jake's, and the tension just kept rising. He felt over-tightened, muscles straining for any form of release. He felt like a balloon about to explode, an old-style cartoon thermometer about to pop from pressure and heat. He fought to find what he'd been saying. Jake's hand had settled into a rhythm -- a mindless, aching, constant rhythm, driving Dirk closer and closer to climax. He rediscovered his words. "I'm never having a fucking Twilight movie night. I thought I had made that clear. I don't have much that's off limits, but that -- that -- " The words fled again. Jake had quickened his pace. Dirk let his mouth hang open, and let his tongue, too long again, loll out.

"You know," Jake said, thoughtfully, "Gran said you'd have an easier time keeping your shape once you'd been a were longer, but I find there's something a little bit -- tantalizing, I suppose, about you losing grip on absotively everything like this. Especially given what a straightlaced fellow you try to be normally!" He leaned in and gave Dirk a sideways kiss. 

"Go fuck yourself," Dirk gasped as Jake broke away. Jake grinned and nipped at his lip -- not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to reprimand him. His hand slowed, until Dirk was certain that swimming through molasses might have been faster -- and more satisfying, most likely. "When it's your turn," he huffed, "to go through this heat bullshit, I just want you to know I'm going to be completely fuckin' insufferable. I am not going to give you what you want for even one single fuckin' second."

"Oh, please." Jake bumped his head against Dirk's temple, then leaned in to tug at Dirk's ear with his teeth. There was a very surreal sensation in feeling the shape of his ear lengthen and shift as Jake slid his tongue along the back. "I'm giving you exactly what you want, aren't I?" His hand picked up its pace, a little at a time, tugging Dirk's hand back and then forward. Dirk strained forward. "Just because I'm not giving it to you as quickly as you'd like --" 

"This is torture," Dirk interjected. "I just want to say that, this is probably against at least like, ten of the fuckin' Geneva Conventions."

"-- Doesn't mean you won't get it eventually," Jake finished, as though Dirk hadn't interrupted him in the first place. His hand moved faster. Faster. Dirk could feel the edge he'd been deprived of looming again. His jaw dropped back open. His ears kept shifting. "There's something a bit weirdly sexy about these," Jake said, and leaned in to bite the tip of one. 

Dirk knew he would never live it down, later, but that was what finally let him come. Jake kept stroking him through his climax, and, distantly, he was aware he was whimpering. His nose felt long. More than that, it felt damp. His tongue was hanging out and his teeth were jagged and this was probably going to be really, really embarrassing to talk about later. _Hey Jake, remember the first time I went into heat and I just couldn't keep myself human? Bet that was the sexiest damn thing you've ever seen._ It was hard to think about it too deeply through the haze of orgasm -- and, more than that, through the already-returning drive to fuck again, and again, until he was run to exhaustion. 

He tried to say something. All that came out was a mangled half-growl, an attempt at a word that couldn't form properly without human vocal cords.

"Oh," Jake said, almost singsong, beside his ear, "you liked that, did you?" 

This time, the noise that came out was a whimper. _Jake, this is embarrassing,_ Dirk wanted to say. _Can you at least not draw attention to it?_ He tried to focus on pulling his mouth and throat back into human form, but the best he could manage was, "Warghhgh."

"Yes, yes, I know." Dirk pried his eyes open to find that most of his color vision had faded out. Not a fantastic sign, as far as keeping his shifting under control. Jake's weight shifted, then pulled up off the bed. "Let me wash off, and I'll be right back." He hummed as his shape retreated toward the bathroom.

Dirk let himself tumble down onto the bed. All his limbs felt missized and his joints felt held together wrong, like pushing his tongue against a loose tooth. It wasn't painful, per se, but it did feel strange and awkward, and he tried his best to focus on pushing back into humanity. He had to do what he could before the currently-dormant storm of arousal roared back to full ferocity. His joints popped back into place, fingers lengthening, jaw shortening, and he let himself breathe a sigh of relief, rolling over to press his face into the pillow. 

His body might have been steering away from wolfhood, but apparently his sense of smell hadn't yet made its way back. The Jake-smell from before was omnipresent, but also marinated with a hundred other smells. What he'd eaten -- today, yesterday, the entire last week. His shampoo, his soap. _Dirk's_ shampoo and soap, the smell of his hair gel. The scent of both their sweat, mingled. A deeper, almost foreign odor that Dirk had come to recognize as Jake's wolf musk.

So much for shifting back. So much for anything but getting off again, in fact. Dirk whined aloud, hoping that Jake could hear it from where he was, and leaned down to touch himself. But that was too much, for the moment, his dick still sensitive from an orgasm what must have been only a few minutes ago. So, instead, he rolled over and let himself begin slowly grinding against the bedsheets.

"Cheese and rice," Jake said behind him. Dirk glanced over his shoulder. "You really just can't control yourself, can you?"

This time, when Dirk tried to talk, words did come out -- though his voice sounded three octaves too deep. "Yeah, and whose fault is that, smartass?"

"You agreed it was best if I bit you," Jake pointed out. He was grinning. Dirk forced himself to stop grinding, breathing hard. 

"Still," he said, making himself roll back over, half-hard dick and all, "if one of us wasn't a fucking werewolf, we wouldn't have to deal with this."

"Oh, Dirk, don't be silly," Jake said, and shucked his shirt in one -- unfairly graceful -- movement. He let it fall to the floor, then lowered his hands to unbutton his shorts. "We're both werewolves now, after all!" He let out a full-throated, warm, dark chuckle. "And, in a minute," he said, as he stepped out of his shorts and boxers, "we'll be fucking werewolves, too." 

It was possibly the silliest damn thing Dirk had ever heard. He covered his eyes with one arm and let out a groan. "That is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard," he said.

"Your dick doesn't seem to think so," Jake said. He was, unfortunately, right. Dirk could feel himself hardening, still, and if he thought too hard about the words "fucking werewolves," images started to flood his mind, which just made his dick harder yet.

"As I think we've established," he said instead of capitulating, "my dick right now is a goddamn traitor and its opinion should not be taken seriously." 

"Oh, I don't know," Jake said. The bed shifted and a moment later, a body pressed against Dirk's. Jake's chest aligned with his, and one hand found his arm to pry it away from his face. Dirk kept his eyes closed, albeit a bit petulantly. The hand that had just tugged his arm away laced fingers through his and pinned the hand beside his head. 

"You are a lovely sheik, aren't you?" Jake murmured. Dirk finally let his eyes open. Jake was above him, radiant and smelling frankly like heaven, even though Dirk tried not to think too hard about that. That path lead to losing control of himself and going full wolfman. His boyfriend's eyes sparkled even in the dim light of the bedroom. Dirk tried to tug his hand loose, but Jake had a pretty damn firm grip on it. So, instead, he rolled his hips upward.

"I don't think so," Jake said, and levered himself up enough that Dirk's grind met only empty air. His other hand came up to grab Dirk's free hand, tugging it up and pinning it. Dirk tried -- unsuccessfully -- to suppress the whimper that came out of his throat. He rolled his hips upward again, still only meeting air. Jake's smile widened, and Dirk watched as his canines slowly began to lengthen.

"Oh, I see how it is," Dirk managed, forcing himself to still. "You get to shift and take your time and make me wait, but I've got to keep myself under control. Is that about the shape of it, here?" 

"You can go ahead if you want," Jake said. His voice deepened as he spoke. His hair grew shaggy as his five o'clock shadow turned into the beginnings of a beard. "It won't matter much for what I have in mind." 

"Hard to shift when you're holding me down." Even though Jake's face was lengthening, his hands were still distinctly human, and the weight pinning Dirk's hands to the bed was palpable. 

"Seems to me if you got rid of those fingers, this wouldn't be so much of a problem, now, would it?" There was a rumble of a growl in Jake's voice, and his legs were definitely shifting into more of a canine shape. His beard had started growing up his cheeks to the edges of his nose, which was too long and quickly becoming too wide as it shifted into a snout. 

There were about a dozen things Dirk wanted to say about how it wasn't fair to expect him to keep his shifting under control when he was still a new werewolf -- one going through heat, no less. On the other hand, when he thought about shifting, his wolf instincts took over and it was too easy to picture himself displaying his belly to Jake, or sinking down to show his neck, only for Jake to mount him --

"There we go," Jake said. "That wasn't such a headache after all, huh?"

Dirk tried to respond, but all that came out was another whine. He realized that his mouth was misshapen and his nose was closer to a snout, and he could feel hair sprouting down the back of his neck. His hands, though -- still hands, fingernails and all, with Jake's fingers still laced through his.

"Alright," Jake said, and released him, as though he'd heard Dirk's thoughts. "Turn about, then, let's go." Dirk blinked up at his boyfriend, caught in the exact midpoint between man and wolf. Jake heaved a heavy sigh, which was made infinitely more dramatic by the way it made the growing fur on his chest fan out. "Flip over! Zounds, Dirk, did the heat drain all the brains out of you, too?"

Oh.

_Oh._

Dirk was momentarily annoyed that his fur hadn't grown up over his cheeks to hide the flush he felt wash over him. He squirmed up, struggling around half-shifted limbs and fur growing in inconvenient places, not to mention his dick, which made every movement a shock of heat and arousal. Still, he managed to turn himself over and was slightly embarrassed to feel the beginnings of a tail waving behind him.

"Much better," Jake said. His voice was only barely still human, and Dirk was pretty sure those were the last actual words he'd hear from his boyfriend for a while, since Jake didn't say another word before climbing over him and biting at the back of Dirk's neck with sharp teeth.

It was somehow better than Dirk had fantasized. A surge of heat flushed through him and he whined as he collapsed down onto the bed. His hips met the bed and he immediately began grinding, but Jake bit harder and, obediently, he stopped. _Please,_ he wanted to say, but all that came out was a plaintive whine. Jake snarled at his back in response, and Dirk did his best to go pliant and small. Whatever Jake wanted, that was fine, he just -- he needed -- 

Jake's teeth pulled out of his neck. Dirk breathed hard against the pillow, inhaling more of that intoxicating Jake smell. He knew that, at this point, he was well on the way to being full wolf and no man, and he didn't bother trying to tamp it down again. His fingers scrabbled at the sheets, trying to grip in even as they became all but incapable of gripping anything. Hair sprouted up from his wrists, from his neck, down his back, down his chest. His tail -- he could feel it lengthening -- was tucked between his legs.

Or, it was, until Jake's teeth tugged it aside. Dirk whined, but quieted when Jake growled in response. He lowered himself, letting his tail tuck itself to the side instead. 

A second later, Jake's tongue began circling his entrance. The texture of his tongue was infinitely different from it had been previous times Jake had done this for him. Now, his tongue was smoother, longer, flatter. And, for the first time today, Jake didn't take his time. He went to work at once, his damp nose pressing against Dirk's skin as his tongue pushed into Dirk. He licked in broad strokes, around the entrance, in and then out again. Dirk, accordingly, let his own tongue loll out as he panted, hips rising as Jake worked. Jake, with still frankly unfair amounts of control over his shifting, pressed fingers against Dirk's ass to spread his cheeks. Dirk could feel the beginnings of claws pricking against his skin, the fur on Jake's fingers tangling with his own. Dirk's hands had finished their change into paws, and he could feel his ears pressed flat against the side of his head, eyes clenched shut. Every breath was halfway to a whine, and pitched higher when Jake's tongue pushed into him again. 

Again and again, Jake licked into him, around him, until Dirk felt ready to burst. His breaths got quicker, rougher, hips jerking slightly back to meet Jake's tongue. He could feel the edge looming, the pressure and heat within him building to a boiling point.

Then Jake pulled away.

Dirk whined aloud, turning to try and beg Jake for more, but he didn't have even an instant before Jake was climbing over him. Jake buried his teeth in Dirk's neck ruff again. Dirk immediately went still. Jake's paws slid around Dirk's hips, holding him in place, and an instant later, he'd pushed all the way into Dirk without an instant of hesitation.

If all the sex before had been good, this was fucking heavenly. Dirk let out half of a howl as Jake pulled away from his neck for better leverage, thrusting hard into him again and again. Harder, deeper, longer thrusts, brushing along the side of his prostate -- shit, had Dirk been relieved to learn wolves still had those -- in a way that rolled pleasure through his veins. The heat that had been bubbling inside him since this morning now felt like it was boiling over. Every movement, every breath scalded Dirk like a brand, and he gasped for air as he tried to whine aloud at the same time.

Jake slammed forward. This time, he didn't pull back. He leaned forward, his paws scrabbling over Dirk's back, until his teeth again found Dirk's ruff. Dirk whined as Jake's hips kept rolling despite his inability to pull himself away. Jake bit at his neck, then moved up to nip at one pointed ear, then the other, then back to Dirk's neck again. This time he dug his teeth in deep, using his grip as leverage as he kept bucking forward. He breathed hot against Dirk's neck, and bit deeper.

Dirk howled. 

He could feel himself coming through what felt like ten layers of cloth. Through a similar filter, he could hear Jake howling, could feel Jake coming into him. Jake's claws scrabbled against his back. Dirk tried to keep himself upright, but it was pointless under the weight of both Jake and his own orgasm. He collapsed down onto the bed, breaths heaving, legs splayed, entire body limp.

Jake was, of course, still inside him when he came back to himself. He was licking the fur just behind Dirk's ears, tender and gentle. His hips still pistoned a bit, but slower, just riding out the length of his orgasm, waiting out what was probably going to be a long afterglow. That was fine. For once, Dirk found that he could stomach the wait. Maybe he'd fucked himself to exhaustion, or maybe his wolf instincts were slightly fonder of penetration, but he found himself thankfully unable to care. Jake's tongue slid down to the side of his muzzle. 

There was a lot of stuff to say. He wanted to know how long this was going to last, how long he was going to have to call in to work because he was too damn horny. He wanted to know how long it was likely to be before the two of them had to go through all of this again. 

It was really hard to think about any of it. So instead, he let himself relax, fuzz out to the texture of Jake's tongue washing over his face and neck. 

He must have drifted off, because when he woke up again, Jake was beside him, watching some movie on his phone. He sat up to find that he was still in his wolf shape, but this time it only took an instant of concentration to trigger the shift back to human. He was relieved to find that the pain, this time, was minimal.

"Welcome back to the world, starshine!" Jake said, not looking at him. Dirk appreciated the gesture. Something about shifting felt private and embarrassing to him, no matter how many times Jake had seen his dick. "You up for another go already?"

Dirk thought about it. "Soon," he said, "but for the moment I'm alright." He curled up next to Jake. "We've got a lot of shit to cover about what the fuck all of this is. You know that, right?"

"Boy howdy, do I," Jake said, lifting one arm to drape it over Dirk's shoulders. Dirk glanced up at the phone screen. Star Wars -- one of the original trilogy, with Mark Hamill in his full twink glory. Probably the best possible option, when it came to what Jake watched during moments of boredom. 

It was the ideal moment to ask about every one of those things Dirk had questions about. Soon enough, he'd be back to desperation for climax and inability to think about anything else. But Dirk found that he couldn't really be bothered to interrupt the moment. He let his eyes close as he rested his head on Jake's chest, already drifting again.

"Well," Jake said with a high note of amusement. One of his hands started stroking slowly through Dirk's hair. "Seems like I tuckered you out just like I hoped for, didn't I, Dirk?"

"If I weren't so tired, I'd fucking smack you," Dirk murmured. Jake's chest shuddered under him as his boyfriend laughed. "Hey," he said, and then, when Jake quieted, "I love you."

Jake laughed again, but it was softer this time. "I love you too," he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss behind Dirk's ear. "Get some rest. I'll pound you into the mattress again when you wake up." 

"That better be a promise," Dirk mumbled, and let himself doze.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the Strilonde Fan Jams server for the fun prompt that I ran with and somehow wrote 10k words of just endless, pointless porn. I had fun! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [@stormsbourne](http://stormsbourne.tumblr.com)!


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